


these flowers confuse me for home

by queenievon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Complete, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, I suck at tags, M/M, RPG, Smut, and SMUT, best friend is a serial killer in the making, jimin is clyde, min yoongi / park jimin are ex boyfriends, pottersworld - Freeform, yoongi is leslie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-09
Updated: 2018-03-09
Packaged: 2019-03-29 01:48:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13916775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenievon/pseuds/queenievon
Summary: ex boyfriends meet for the first time since graduationorleslie tries to contain his serial killer best friend and his feelings for his ex boyfriend





	these flowers confuse me for home

It had been years since Leslie had left London, not even waiting until the end of graduation before he had himself, Graves and Kennedy on a plane to Europe where he learned how to forget about his old life, the house he could never call a home, the people who raised him that he couldn’t claim as family, the girl caught between two worlds that his shoulders could no longer bear the weight of guilt and shame any longer, and of the boy who tore his heart out of his chest in what would later be considered the worst breakup in the guiness book of records--probably.

Since then it’s been hard for Leslie to feel anything, and he blamed Clyde for it all. 

He blamed Clyde for flooding his thoughts, dreams and nightmares, for appearing in the pink dusk on the horizon once the sun had set in every country Leslie had escaped too. He blamed Clyde for appearing in the gardens of France, fields of yasmin made his head dizzier than the whiskey he drank throughout the day and was now his most favoured travelling companion.  
He blamed Clyde for appearing everywhere he went, the black coffee that had always been Leslie’s taste until Clyde learned to drink it too, stormy nights that transported him back to that night he found himself on Clyde’s front steps, that song that Clyde had danced for him too then proceeded to give him the best blowjob of his life in the club bathroom, haunting him with everything that he was trying to forget, making him angrier than he already was because he wanted to forget.

He didn’t forgive Clyde for shifting the blame, for not being true to himself or for disregarding Leslie as though it all was for nothing. He didn’t forgive him for being selfish, for making Leslie feel as though he wasn’t being enough in Clyde’s time of need when in fact he was being blamed for the blood of the Slytherin’s parents on his hands instead. None of it made sense to anyone except Leslie because he knew the other like the back of his hand, even better than Clyde did himself which only made Leslie angrier because none of it needed to happen. 

But it did, and now here they were, he had no idea what happened to Clyde after graduation and as much as he didn’t want to know his mind wandered back to London wondering where he was and what he was doing, as his body wandered the foreign streets of different countries and buried itself in foreign bodies as he tried to burn the Slytherin’s touch from his memory with the replacement of people whose names he’d never remember, and wondered if Clyde was doing the same. 

This continued for two years, with Graves and Kennedy by his side money was never short so no plan was too small, the three of them lost themselves in experiencing all the world had to offer. With one very determined Carver boy who wished to do everything in the name of research whether it was a pair of twins whose names were more irrelevant than their gymnastic abilities and a line of cocaine--and a Kennedy who had a bucket list longer than her list of problems, the trio formed the perfect equivalence of chaos, apathy and misery and left a trail of destruction behind as they went. 

A trail of destruction that led them to digging a grave in the early hours of the morning, sweating out the toxins in their bloodstreams as the bite of reality set in. “Your both really lucky my family have a habit of killing people because I assume both of you have no idea on how to dispose of a body and get away with it” Kennedy bragged from her perch on top of the bonnet of a borrowed 1970 Chevy Nova SS, the owner no doubt would be putting out a search warrant for the classic imported car which just meant that they would have to burn it once they were done. 

Leslie rolled his eyes, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his sleeve as he shovelled out some more dirt, “yeah real lucky, tell me how’s that job going of keeping a lookout? Still no one? Well you better stay up there just incase someone decides to go into the middle of fucking nowhere at 2 o’clock in the morning.” 

Graves raised his head from where he was busy concentrating, focusing all his energy into performing the one task, his body swaying as he did, “Yes, I am glad you are here to help us Kennedy Major, though I wish you would let me summon my house elves to do this as I do not like hard labour of this kind”, Leslie just snorted.

“Rule number one, you don’t get your hands dirty” she held up her clean hands as an example, “but since it’s your fault Graves you get to do all the dirty work since your hands are already everywhere, and Leslie is helping you because the quicker we get this done with the better” Kennedy continued, leaning back against the windshield as she watched the boys work. 

“I do not understand why we can not use magic” Graves asked, “I do believe it is my fault so I will bear the consequences though I do not believe it was worth it, I need to further my research still--and I do not think that will be possible from Azkaban” his face emotionless as he stared at the witch, “I do not want to go to Azkaban” he concluded from where he stood clutching the shovel as support, Leslie had no doubt that the boy still had chemicals in his bloodstream, he didn’t have any reaction to Graves’ questions since he was use to the ways of the ex-Slytherin--despite his sudden interest in death, Leslie was already numb to it. 

Kennedy however, snorted. “Because using magic is evidence, it can be traced if your wands are confiscated somehow, don’t ask me how it would happen I don’t know but it’s something you don’t want. Damn straight it’s your fault, this isn’t like when you blew up a pyramid in Egypt to see if mummies were a thing or when you both got high as fuck off billywigs in Australia while getting your adrenaline hit by walking all over the Sydney Harbour Bridge, or when we went hunting for those shapeshifting water demon things--” 

“Kelpies” Graves added in helpfully, 

Kennedy waved her hand as though the bit of information didn’t matter, “and your acid tripping minds told you it was a good idea to mount the bloody thing--”

“You did too” Leslie blamed, narrowing his eyes as his hands drifted over a scar on his ribs he had received from that night where one of the loch ness spikes had sliced him,

“This is murder Graves but I won’t let you go to Azkaban if I can help it, right Leslie?” Kennedy eyed him as she rolled a joint, 

Leslie scoffed as he shoveled some more dirt, “I think that Graves should stop talking and hurry up, I also don’t think Graves would do the same for me so no if we get caught, I’ll be honest about who's to blame” And though it wasn’t a lie, it would all depend on Graves’ interests at the time, but they all knew Leslie would most likely help his friend, despite his claim. “And personally I think blowing up ancient artifacts is worse than murder, not that I’m condoning it” he added as he glanced at Graves, “if you want to stay out of Azkaban I’d recommend not killing anyone else” he informed the other before lifting himself out of the grave, “let’s bury this guy and get out of here, or--what’s left of him” Leslie peered underneath the tarp with disgust, “god damn Graves what possessed you to put him in pieces?” 

Graves threw his shovel up before following Leslie’s moves, lifting himself out of the earth “I do not think I can do that Leslie, because that is why I do not want to go to Azkaban” he informed Leslie factually, indifferent as always, “It was for research, I had been told once that it was possible to open up a human and put them back together again without them dying, I was surprised that I failed, I believe I need to do more research before trying again” he informed them in a calm manner. 

Kennedy whistled appreciatively whilst scrunching her nose up in disgust as they picked up the tarp and dropped it in the grave with a thud, “god he smells, I also can’t believe how there has been a lack of grave puns tonight I’m disappointed in the both of you” she huffed sliding off the bonnet and grabbing the can of fuel from the backseat, before pouring into the hole. 

“Who’s got a light?” she asked as she stuck the stick in between her lips, Leslie held out his lighter, waited until she was done before throwing it into the grave and watched as it exploded causing the back of his eyelids to itch uncomfortably from the heat. Once they had done the same to the car and had finally managed to pull Graves away from inspecting it with interest Kennedy held out her arms, “fun’s over boys.”

“I am having a lot of fun Kennedy” Graves informed her, no sign of fun written on his face though they were both well use to the boy’s lack of emotions by now.

Leslie didn’t know whether it was because he was coming down from his high, which reminded him to take the bud from Kennedy’s mouth and take a drag before stomping it out underneath his shoe, “do you remember the last time we apparated and you didn’t put out your smoke?” he asked her blandly not waiting for a response, “I understand why we have to leave the country, the continent even but that doesn’t mean we have to go back.” Nausea settled into his stomach as a face appeared in his mind that haunted both his dreams and his nightmares. 

The fact that going back to London was more terrifying than being caught with murder really spoke volumes of how much the three of them had done over the past few years in order to forget their problems, the idea that they now needed to face them was almost comical. 

Especially when the one with the most crimes on his hands held no fear or guilt whatsoever, “I would like to go back, I miss my father” Graves stated.

Leslie rolled his eyes, “Graves your father is still on the run, with everything that’s going on you can’t risk meeting him” even as he said that he knew it was no use, in fact Leslie would probably end up helping him if only for something to keep him preoccupied. 

“Oh shut up Leslie there’s a billion people in London you aren’t going to run into him” Kennedy snapped as she grabbed both of their wrists, 

“By him does she mean my father? Or Clyde Ramsey?” Graves asked monotones his gaze meeting Leslies until that sickening feeling washed over them and they disappeared from the crime scene with a pop. 

\-----

He had lasted only two days before leaving the Carver Estate, disguising himself and lurking in Hogsmeade across from Felise’s in hopes to catch a glimpse of the boy who use to put the sun to shame, though for the most part he wished Clyde wouldn’t show his face.

Leslie had spent years running from it and now he was here, every part of his mind waving a red flag and telling him to get out of there except his body wouldn’t budge. It had always been like that, whenever the two were in proximity some higher power would force the two to gravitate and revolve around the other until coming together like the big bang. Except no one took in account of the collateral that came after, when the universe than stripped them of each other it was the biggest shock of the century to all that had known them. 

Leslie needed to see him, ‘for closure’ he told himself but mostly he just hoped Clyde looked as shit as Leslie felt. He didn’t want to see the other happy and moved on, even though Leslie knew it was a high possibility since Clyde stayed put, planting his roots in the ground and kept himself busy, whereas Leslie did the opposite, burning bridges as he went. 

“You always were terrible at disguises” a female voice came from behind him, causing him to whip around than proceeding to groan into his hands. 

He had forgotten about Violet. 

Violet who he’d expected to be by Clyde’s side, Violet who suddenly didn’t have time for him for the entirety of his seventh year, Violet who was now standing there staring down at him before claiming a spot beside him on the bench as though it belonged to her, two coffee’s held in her hand, one of them a peace offering--and it was black, just how he liked it. 

“He’s not in there” she told him blandly taking a sip of her coffee whilst skimming her eyes over his face, drinking him in-- “and I’m not telling you where to find him either.” 

Leslie stared into his coffee, looking at his reflection “I stopped expecting anything from you a long time ago Violet,” he replied, he saw her wince in the corner of his eye. 

She hesitated, not looking away “where did you go Leslie? You just disappeared--I was worried” she asked quietly, 

He snorted, “don’t lie to me Violet, I think we’re past that”,

She huffed annoyed, “don’t act the victim Leslie you told me to take his side remember? That despite everything he was going to need me and that you would be alright, I didn’t realise agreeing to that meant I was suppose to stop caring and be okay when you disappeared off the face of the earth along with Kennedy and Graves, where are they by the way?” she raged in a whisper, as to not draw attention to them--to him, she always had been considerate.

“Why would I tell you?” he retorted incredulously, 

“Because Kennedy was my friend too Leslie, and I suppose Graves was too in his own weird ass way. I didn’t agree for any of you just to up and disappear out of my life, god can you imagine how I felt?” Violet stated, coffee forgotten, “I get that it was the Clyde and Leslie show and all but neither of you stopped to realise who else you were hurting.” 

Leslie stayed quiet, if only because he feared if he opened his mouth he would do something he would regret, how it made her feel? She wasn’t wrong about collateral but that's besides the point, it was about Clyde and Leslie. How he reacted was his only option in his mind, he had no other coping mechanism, neither of them could stay in the same place together so it meant one of them had to leave. It was a no-brainer that it had to be him, the wallflower, the lone wolf, he had nothing going for him that couldn’t wait a few years, so he’d been exiled by his own feelings until they became too much he had to keep them constantly numb. As though whatever had tied him to them to begin with had been severed along the way. 

Violet didn’t take his silence well but instead what she offered surprised him, “I’ll tell you what, you bring the group of misfits to Hog’s Head tonight and I’ll bring Clyde,” his eyes snapped to hers as she stared at him defeatedly, “just, don’t be stupid about it--okay?” She asked standing up to leave, he watched her walk away and as she stopped to glance at him over her shoulder a little sadly, “I’m glad you're okay Leslie, really” before making her way across the street. 

Leslie watched her go, not really knowing whether to believe her or not, but for the first time in a while his heart felt a pang, so he reached into his cloak and poured some of the contents of his flask into his coffee, sitting there for a while longer until he decided it was time to leave himself based on the numbness of his skin. 

\------

Hog’s Head hadn’t changed and the moment Leslie stood inside he had changed his mind, it was too empty, not noisy enough and if he wanted to use a crowd as a quick getaway well it was practically nonexistent here, so he slipped the bartender a note to give Violet along with a bribe to help the message get to where it was meant to go and relocated to a crowded club in London’s cbd where there were several floors to hide instead--though he had a prickly feeling that Clyde was going to find him no matter what. 

And if Violet had anything to do with it she was going to make sure Clyde looked his best, so Leslie took advantage of Kennedy and Grave’s fortune to make himself look the best he could look, even with cuts on his cheek and bruises decorating his cheekbone. 

“Shame” Graves stated with no hint of disappointment across his expressionless face, “I enjoy researching specimens at the Hog’s Head, I think I would find a potential research specimen there. It is far too crowded here” he said as he followed Leslie in, looking like the heir of an estate should look.

“You mean victim” Kennedy said under her breath, looking equally glamorous herself. None of them wanted to admit it, but they were all nervous even if it was all for different reasons. Leslie wasn’t looking forward to the moment when his eyes landed on Clyde, nor was Kennedy looking forward to Violet’s reaction once they reunited, whereas Graves, well Leslie just thought Graves was nervous to find the perfect person to murder--again. 

“There’s more people here to conduct research on Graves just, just make sure you find me before you decide--to carry anything out” or in other words so he could knock him out and blame it on the alcohol. Though it was a temporary fix, Leslie was facing his own problems tonight, whether Graves lands himself in Azkaban or not was not one of them. 

“You are both right, I will begin my research immediately” Graves informed them before walking straight up to a nearby booth and introducing himself. 

Seven floors worth of people ought to keep Graves busy for the rest of the night, hopefully none of them encourage him to think they’re more special than the other.

Kennedy pushed past him, “I’m getting us drinks, I can’t do this sober.” she said bluntly as he followed behind, Leslie grunted in agreement. Though they both knew Leslie was in a constant buzzed state and had been for the majority of their travels, she still slid him a shot because deep down, they knew they were going to need it. 

Leslie still wasn’t completely sure what went down between Violet and Kennedy, though he was under the impression it had all been fake but then there were moments like this that made him feel like, made him realise he can’t have all of the answers. She had her own demons, it wasn’t his fight just as much as his own problems weren’t hers. That’s how they had all worked from the very beginning, it wasn’t about to change now. 

She left him at the bar and disappeared into the crowd, he ordered another drink just for the sake of familiarity and having something to nurse in his hand. It wasn’t long after until goosebumps raised on skin and he felt the air thicken around him, feeling instantly as eyes settled onto his back. He knew it was him, his body never reacted this way around anyone else, and though he was Gryffindor, he had never grown into the lion’s skin. He knew he should turn around, but he couldn’t force his body to move, instead he revelled in how he felt since he had grown so use to being numb, but even the numbness couldn’t stop the nervous electric wire thrumming to life underneath his skin. 

At the back of his mind a nagging subconscious urged him to check if only just to make sure it wasn’t Graves, though he could feel that it wasn’t--especially when the set of familiar eyes appeared beside him, except they weren’t all that familiar at all. 

Gone were the dusky pink sunsets and the sun that coloured his sky, what stood beside him was a version of Clyde he had only begun to taste at the beginning of seventh year, he didn’t know this person who’s hair was obsidian black, whose skinny arms were covered in tattoos and who’s gaze didn’t shy away but instead stared openly, drinking everything in. 

“You don’t look like shit” Leslie said bluntly, an observation more so to himself than to compliment the other boy, 

“You do” Clyde replied taking the seat, breaking his eye contact for a mere moment before settling them on Leslie’s face again. 

Leslie snorted, staring at the ice clinking in his glass. For all the talk inside his head, he didn’t actually have anything to say, he just wanted to see Clyde, and now he had. He felt a little dizzy, a little high and he wasn’t sure if it was from the joint he smoked earlier or the familiar scent of yasmine encircling his space. 

“I thought you were dead” Clyde broke the silence that had fallen over them despite the loud bass vibrating off the walls and the hundreds of sweaty bodies trying to shout over the sound of music. 

“Sorry to disappoint” Leslie answered dryly, lifting his drink to his lips. He hated that despite everything, his body was still leaning towards Clyde as though he still thought that’s where it belonged. It was sick of feeling numb, the moment Clyde had entered the club it was as though something had switched on, but Leslie knew better than to listen to what his body wanted this time around. 

Clyde laughed humorlessly, “god of course you play the victim card,” his empty eyes sparked to life as they flashed with anger, “I thought you were dead, you and Graves, and Kennedy--none of you even left a fucking note.” 

Leslie didn’t lift his gaze, “if anyone’s dead I’d start by pointing the blame at Graves this time, not me”, 

“I--what?” 

“Nothing, it was a joke” Leslie replied lamely, “why would I leave a note to you?” he retorted, 

Clyde ignored what was implied and replied anyway “when people plan to travel for two years they usually let someone know, I went and asked Ambrosia about--”

“You what?” Leslie replied finally meeting his stare as he mirrored the anger there, “how dare--”

“She was worried sick, your selfish, self-centred ass didn’t even tell your own sister even after all your talk, you just left her” Clyde replied bluntly with little emotion to his voice, 

Leslie didn’t want to listen to this, no one understood why he did what he did because nobody could, he was Ambrosia’s only pull in this world and he had to set her free. The pain of being caught between two worlds was too much for either of them to bear, Ambrosia because she saw everything that she could never be, to have rubbed in her face on a daily basis by two people that had never had their best interests at heart, and him because he was the one she hung around for. Leslie wasn’t blind she had lots of muggle friends and she was talented, it was a waste to hang up her life for the sake of hanging onto a brother who would only have time for her as an afterthought. Instead of saying this he asked quietly, “how is she?” 

Clyde snorted, “fine, Johnny’s been checking up on her every now and then, she’s got her own apartment in London if you want to stalk her too.” 

So after everything she was still caught up with his world, with Johnny Walker of all people. He figured once he was out of the picture it wouldn’t take her long to get herself sorted and move out, he didn’t react to the stalker chide either--he figured Violet would have told him being the person she was, yet he came anyway, which to Leslie spoke volumes on it’s own. 

He didn’t say anything as his gaze flicked up from his drink to drink him in instead, he was surprised Clyde had even bothered to meet up with Ambrosia, which left him with too many questions that he didn’t think he could handle the answers too. “So what are you doing with yourself?” he asked as he noted the ink on both of Clyde’s arms and peeping up over his collar on the base of his throat, which must to his dismay caused caused a uncomfortable twitch in his already skin tight jeans. 

Clyde rolled his eyes and turned around so that he was leaning his back against the bar, briefly surveying the room before locking his gaze back with Leslie’s, a metal bar appeared between his teeth as the other seemed to debate whether he should tell him, was that a tongue piercing? 

 

Leslie suddenly felt as though the past two years had happened for a reason, as though all of the dangerous things they had gotten up too had prepared him for this moment. The drunken nights where they teetered on the edges of buildings, climbing higher and higher solely for the thrill. Obliviating pub owners and making off with all the booze just because they could. Playing chicken with giants and angering centaurs, the bets and challenges just kept escalating until the three of them were left digging the grave that drove them home. 

Home to Clyde, who was standing before him staring at him as though Leslie would disappear again if he looked away, making the Gryffindor feel as though the boy before him was going to be the most dangerous conquest yet, if only because despite how different they were now, it was still the same boy who had spilt butterbeer over his drawings or kept all of his plushies on his bed but treasured the ones Leslie had won for him at festivals the most. Staring at Clyde now, he wondered how much of that boy was left, was he still the broken boy who wanted to make his parents proud? Or was he the orphan and brother that went above and beyond for those who he held in his heart? 

“I work a desk job at the Ministry” Clyde said indifferently examining his fingernails, causing Leslie to raise his eyebrows, he had expected him to work alongside with Violet or at Mungos, not something as boring and mundane as a desk job, he didn't say anything though as Clyde continued “You hear a lot in there if people think you’re irrelevant enough” he said indifferently. 

Something in his tone caused a small crinkle to form in between Leslie’s eyebrows, he had always known Clyde didn’t have the greatest self esteem but it was as though he wasn’t even trying, as though he himself believed the worst and was punishing himself for it 

“Sometimes I’d overhear some things, some crazier than others and I wondered if it was you, even if it meant I’d have no idea who’d you had become, because at least you were alive” Clyde continued staring openly at Leslie who now wondered when did he get so shameless? 

Leslie took a sip of his drink, “I had wondered if anything had ever reached the ministries ears” he replied blatantly, confused by Clyde’s confession, what did it mean? Had he been listening, waiting for Leslie to come back? It didn’t make sense, too much had happened for them to try and fix burnt bridges now. 

“So the Kelpies were you?” Clyde asked warily, “did you know they found three sets of clothes, a campsite and a small packet of illegal substances near the creatures lake?” he exclaimed as he stared at Leslie waiting for a reaction. Leslie just stared back, raising an eyebrow slightly as if to challenge him to turn them all in. He remembered most of that night even if it was in a state of confusion, though he didn’t realise they had discarded their clothes in their adventure to ride the loch ness monster. 

“Merlin, were you trying to get yourself killed?” Clyde continued, if it wasn’t for the dryness or lack of emotion in the boy’s voice Leslie would almost had thought he cared. 

Though, Leslie thought he understood where Clyde was getting at, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself just because you broke my heart Clyde,” he was anything if not blatantly honest, it was one thing that had yet to change, though he couldn’t deny Clyde was the reason it all happened to begin with, that and his incapability to think about anything when Clyde had always seemed to be right there. It was pain and their love was painfully blind--love had made the danger in Clyde look like safety. Leslie cleared his throat, “I was trying to feel something.” 

Suddenly he didn’t feel nearly intoxicated enough to deal with Clyde standing so close, holding his complete attention as though Leslie had suddenly developed a twitch and he was trying to figure it out. Leslie was the first one to look away, uncomfortable under the other’s scrutiny and angry that for the first time in months, even if it was just the familiarity of the other, his body hadn’t forgotten, reacting even if it was just the slightly increased heart rate or the flush of warmth under his cold skin, though he could also blame the alcohol for that. He signalled the bartender for another, quickly throwing back what was left in the glass he held in his palm. He glanced back at Clyde who seemed to be staring but lost in his thoughts, “do you want a drink?” he offered, there he could be civil. 

This seemed to bring Clyde back to the present as he cleared his throat, “no, thanks. I don’t drink” Leslie raised an eyebrow, “anymore” he added quickly after. “Though I could use a cigarette, if you want to join me outside,” 

Leslie nodded, fingers clasping around his drink as he slipped off the barstool and followed Clyde outside, giving Leslie an appreciative view of his curved ass--at least one thing hadn’t changed.

“Did you come alone?” Clyde asked opening the back door to the smoking room, 

Leslie shook his head “Graves is here, having a ball no doubt” he answered dryly watching as Clyde lit up the cigarette, his eyes followed the smoke as it exhaled from his pretty lips and disappeared into the cold air around them. “And Kennedy though I don’t kn--” 

The door flung open banging against the brick wall as the girl came storming through quickly followed by Violet, hot on her heel. 

“Speak of the devil” Clyde commented as he ashed on the ground, watching on warily as the girls approached, “good to see you Kenn” he inclined monotoned. 

“Oh can it cupcake, Wednesday Addams called and she wants her look back” Kennedy snapped before turning onto Leslie, “I’m out, I didn’t make us come back just to be lectured and so you can resurrect burnt bridges Leslie”,

Violet snorted, “right, why are you still here? Do what you do best Kenn, fly away”. 

Kennedy flipped her hair throwing Violet a glare before turning on her heel, “fine. See you at home Leslie, Graves is your problem now--he’s somewhere on the fourth floor so I’d say you have until he reaches the seventh to figure out what you’re doing,” she informed him bluntly before slamming the door behind her. 

“What did she mean by that?” Clyde asked frowning slightly, his eyes hardening “you only came back because she made you?” 

“Good question, what are you doing Leslie?” Violet asked accusingly, “I’m relieved to see that you’re okay but if you’re just here to create trouble and cause problems for Clyde then--”

Clyde cut her off, “he’s not” he stated brusquely, 

“But”

“We’re just talking Violet, maybe you should go--I can drop by when I’m done” Clyde said bluntly, challenging the stare the witch met him with before she backed down, not before eyeing Leslie warily, 

“Fine, it’s not like I didn’t know you’re a masochist” Violet huffed annoyed, following Kennedy’s suit. 

There was a moment of silence before Clyde broke it, “so, you were forced to come back” he stated the fact without asking, his eyes flashed angrily, as though he had been expecting something else. 

 

Leslie shifted as he leaned against the brick wall, taking Clyde’s cigarette from in between his fingers and taking a drag, Clyde looked as though he wanted to stop him, but instead he watched as Leslie exhaled and even breathed some of it in, only taking it back when Leslie held it out to him. “Reality caught up to us, if it wasn’t for those two then no--I wouldn’t have come back” yet. It was the truth, and they had learned long ago that the truth was sharp and it always hurt, “you can’t blame me” he added quietly. 

Clyde’s eyes fell down at Leslie’s words and Leslie had to stop himself from leaning forward and lifting his chin to see his eyes, even after all this time Clyde was still his bad habit that he was unable to kick, even now he caught himself staring brazenly at the boy, even covered in black from head to toe, the tattoos and everything else, Clyde Ramsey still glowed, seemingly unaware of himself and how beautiful he was to look at--he always had been Leslie’s favourite masterpiece. 

Even now as he dragged the cigarette in between his lips, eyelashes fluttered briefly against his cheeks, Leslie couldn’t look away. He had thought Clyde was the child of the sun, had thought the boy from back then had put the sun and the stars to shame, being far more intricate than any constellation that Leslie had studied. He had been Leslie’s favourite textbook, staying up late into the early hours of the morning as he admired and kissed, burning his touch into his skin as he learned every chapter, studying the pages until he could no longer keep his eyes open and exhaustion claimed them both until they woke up as a tangle of limbs and husky sweet nothings whispered into his ears. The only issue was now, when the book had ended he still had the story burnt into his mind, the feel of the pages and the words written on them he had memorized that even two years of letting strangers mark him until he was sure he had forgotten, until now when the faded memory of how Clyde had tasted under his lips, it pained his chest as he forced himself to hold back. 

He’s not yours anymore. 

Clyde didn’t shine at the world like the one Leslie was familiar with, this Clyde was dark and Leslie was intrigued to learn what dangers would come with it. But even now as the sun had been covered by clouds and thrown into the midst of a storm, Clyde was still breathtakingly beautiful, perhaps even more so. Like a hurricane combined with a fire storm crafted by the hands of gods to wreck disaster and havoc to those who dare to conquer it. 

Leslie had stood in the rain once already, let the water splatter across his skin like thousands of tiny knives--he could handle a storm too. 

“I’ve heard they hurt a lot” Leslie asked abruptly, his eyes flicking down to wear his tongue darted out to wet his lips and the flash of metal before it disappeared, “you’re piercing” he clarified as Clyde raised an eyebrow, 

Clyde shrugged noncommittally “I deserve it” he said before he breathed in his smoke once more, the ember lighting up orange as he did. Leslie stayed quiet as he stared intently, he was thankful for being intoxicated because even now, the pain and hurt from back then, the blame and the final result that was inevitable, could still be felt through the fog in his mind and chest. He watched shamelessly as Clyde’s throat bobbed up and down, biting down on his bottom lip to prevent himself from marking the familiar territory. 

“Do they hurt?” Clyde asked bringing his eyes back to clash with his as he indicated to the bruises and cuts on his cheekbones, Leslie shook his head eyes widening a little as Clyde reached out, fingers fluttered softly across his purpled skin, and as he did Leslie’s eyes focused on a scrawled tattoo on the other’s forearm. 

“Bad and bruised did always suit you” Clyde commented, his voice dropped a little huskier as he retracted his hand, only to be stopped as Leslie’s fingers wrapped around his wrist as he read the lyrics that lay there. His eyes flashed in surprise as he realised they were from the song he had written for Clyde back in sixth year, he let Clyde pull his away, staring with his lips parted slightly in surprise at Clydes downward gaze. 

“You know I tried to move on,” Leslie said suddenly, a knife cutting through the silence, “tried to forget you and” he paused swallowing thickly, “everything--but I couldn’t. I tried to forget what it was like to kiss you by kissing strangers, tried to forget your hands--” and how they felt on him, but he couldn’t, how could he when it’s what haunted his dreams most nights for the past two years? But there was too much pain to see through the blame, for that to happen they both would need to want to, and as far as Leslie could tell it was just the memories of the past that was lighting a fire in their stomach, it was the memory of hands covering every inch of his body like he couldn’t get enough, the dizzying sensation of his lips and the sounds that was music to his ears. Clyde finally met his gaze, and all Leslie saw was pain, misery through the veil of nothingness. Leslie’s eyes flashed angrily, “but you burnt it into my fucking skin.” 

The silence that followed was louder than the bass beating against the club walls, than the music they had so easily drowned out from being so attuned to the other. 

Clyde didn’t say anything, merely offering what little was left of his cigarette which Leslie took gratefully, filling his lungs with poison as he focused on the burn in the back of his throat, watching the cloud as it escaped his lips. He knew the answer before he asked, but he had too “do you still blame me?” he asked quietly staring at where the smoke had now evaporated, handing it back.

Would they be able to light the skies on fire once more with something that was far more powerful than either of them could comprehend? Could they move mountains and oceans, bring the earth trembling to its knees from their passion that brought the stars crashing to the ground? 

Clyde followed Leslie’s gaze, his eyelashes fluttered as though the idea was too painful to bear “I have to” he answered softly, his voice suddenly filled with waves of emotions that he had been masking causing Leslie to glance sideways to see his jaw clench, “otherwise I’ll blame myself” he continued quietly, “and I don’t think I can survive that.” 

Leslie didn’t think there was anything left of his heart to shatter, but after hearing those words leave Clyde’s lips, he found that there was. 

“I take it you never found out who started the fire” he asked quietly, if only the culprit behind Clyde’s parents deaths had been found, then perhaps there was a way to fix it, all of it. 

Clyde kicked off from the wall, dropped his cigarette and put it out under his shoe, “it’s hard to do when it’s just you and everyone leaves ” he stated moving past Leslie, a flip had been switched and gone was any hint of emotion that had been dancing in the depths of his eyes only moments ago. 

Leslie frowned following him through the door and into the hallway that led through to the club, “you made it a bit hard for me to stay, don’t you think?” he replied defensively, 

Clyde let out a humorless laugh, as he glared at Leslie over his shoulder “you’re joking, you practically ran--right through the european population I might add, or did you do more than one continent?” 

Anger bubbled in Leslie’s chest, he could see what Clyde was doing, all of this would be a lot easier if they were both angry, the pain was easier to handle. Leslie scoffed, “don’t act so innocent, so did you.” 

Clyde hurled around practically simmering, “actually no, I didn’t” he snapped angrily, 

Leslie rolled his eyes before returning the glare, “just because you didn’t leave the country to doesn’t mean you’re cleansed of your sins,” 

Clyde glared back infuriated, “I didn’t, I haven’t” he breathed out frustrated before delving his fingers through his hair as he pushed it back off his face, “I haven’t” he repeated again resentfully before turning back around leaving a shocked Leslie staring after him until he had processed what he had just heard. 

“What?” Leslie said stunned, unlike him, Clyde hadn’t tried to forget--instead he forced himself to remember every painful, electrifying memory and relive it like some form of twisted punishment instead of trying to forget by burying his memories in the likes of strangers. The realisation had him speechless, as he fixated on Clydes retreating figure, the notion that Clyde had only, completely and irrevocably been his was--extremely gratifying, and a huge turn on.

All his logic was quickly replaced by animalistic desire, Leslie swiftly caught Clyde’s shoulder and spun him around to see the familiar flushed cheeks and a muffled protest before he slammed his mouth down taking what was his. Clyde’s fingers grasped onto Leslie’s shirt tightly trying to balance himself as Leslie backed him against the wall, an appreciative noise escaping the back of his throat as Clyde pushed back, folding himself around Leslie as though he was trying to steal the oxygen from his lungs. 

He still tasted the way he remembered, just like mint except this time there was a metallic tang from the silver bar piercing through his tongue, the way it gliding along the roof of his mouth caused heat to pool in his stomach as he reached up to grasp Clyde’s black hair causing the boy to shudder and gasp into his mouth. 

It was as easy as breathing if breathing meant living without air as it was a constant battle between giving and receiving, of dominance of lips and dancing tongues as they moved against the other, hard and soft and chaotic, completely dizzying and addictive because he had been denied his favourite flavour for too long and now he was was overwhelmed and far, far too greedy. 

Splayed hands spread across his neck as he felt nails digging into his skin, as he pressed closer to remove the nonexistent distance between them. Leslie’s body moulded against Clyde’s as though they were trying to become the one person because neither of them could get enough, because when was it ever enough? it hadn’t been back then and it still wasn’t now. 

Leslie broke away to skim his mouth along Clyde’s jaw, the other’s head falling backwards to rest against the club wall with a cracked moan and hitched breathing as Leslie moved down to the crook of his neck, sucking and marking what was his, what has always been his with blue and purple galaxies as his hand moved down Clyde’s side feeling his racing heartbeat and ribs until it moved, cupping his ass tightly and pulling it against his pelvis releasing a breathy cry from Clyde’s lips in turn causing Leslie to moan against his skin because it had been too long since he’d heard his favourite melody and it was far sweeter than he had remembered. 

“We. Need To. Move” Leslie breathed raggedly, realising they were still in the club hallway filled with people. He tried to fill his lungs with much needed air as he pulled away to stare mesmerised at the masterpiece that stared back, heavy lidded with his head tilted back against the wall as they both tried to control their breathing. “We can head back to Graves’ Pla-” 

“Fuck that” Clyde replied, eyes flashing with hunger and determination whilst wrapping his fingers around Leslie’s wrist and tugging him into the club bathroom and swiftly locking the door behind him before tangling his fingers back through Leslie’s hair and bringing his mouth crashing down. 

Leslie chuckled into the kiss, “you always did have a thing for bathrooms”

“Shut up” 

It had been nearly three years since he had felt like this, this all consuming burning need that made him feel this crazy, horny and giddy all at once. To be set aflame inside, to feel like he was burning up and now the clothes itched irritably on his skin making him uncomfortable because he just wanted to not have anything else keep the two apart because suddenly his dreams and nightmares had collided and had their hands skimming over his ribs and where his scar now decorated his skin, creating markings of their own as they clawed down his back and god, there was a reason he couldn’t forget Clyde’s touch imprinted into his skin ruining Leslie from ever trying to move on. There was a fire in his stomach with just need to be consumed by the natural disaster before him, he had dreamt about those pretty lips and how they felt wrapped around him and those eager eyes always ready to please. 

But there was nothing pretty about it this time, Clyde had gone to the dark side and Leslie was more than tempted. They both had something to prove, to claim, both of their actions had only proved that Clyde was explicitly and irrevocably his and he was Clyde’s. Clyde had burnt himself right into Leslie’s soul and taken it for his own and he had let him do so willingly. This was just a reminder, that he was doomed for anyone other than Clyde. 

Clyde who was prying his lips open with desperate need, Clyde who had Leslie’s zipper undone a hand already palming over the bulge in his boxer briefs not even giving him a second to breathe as he moaned loudly collapsing into Clyde’s shoulder. Clyde was taking control determined to wreak havoc and make Leslie into a utterly compliant mess. 

“Dollface what are you doing to me?” He rasped using the familiar nickname, pulling Clyde’s hand away from his front and silenced the protesting whine that was muffled in the back of the boy’s throat. Each touch, look and sound had Leslie wanting to go over the edge not use to the electrifying, burning heat of the other’s skin it was a sensory overload. 

“Clothes. Off. Now” Clyde demanded, tearing at Leslie’s shirt and then lifting his own above his head, discarding it haphazardly on the bathroom floor.

“So needy fuck, want me to fuck you baby?” Leslie’s lips traced across every inch of skin he could find on the other’s throat, 

“God y-yes, fuck m-me please” Clyde cried out “h-help me take t-these off” he whined his fingers fumbling with his leather tight pants and Leslie had half the mind to tell him that’s what you get, knowing now that Leslie is going to dream about them and how well they sat on Clyde’s ass. 

His fingers moved brushing Clyde’s away who immediately reaching out touching everywhere making Leslie’s concentration foggy until finally, finally he had undone these fucking pants and peeled them down to reveal Clyde straining against his own boxer briefs that were already damp, the sight had his own straining against it’s confinements, so he peeled those down too and backed him against the counter, “look at you, baby” Leslie rasps, his eyes trailing up Clyde’s front until their eyes meet, reaching down to take him in his hands, slicking his precome up and down in his hand watching as Clyde’s head dropped backwards in pleasure, revealing his open neck as Leslie worked him. “Fuck, you’re so pretty, such a pretty mess for me” Leslie bit down on his bottom lip unable to withhold his groan at the sight, he slipped an arm around his waist and lifted him onto the counter where he was spread eagerly showing off his pretty pink rim.

Clyde tilted his head back against the wall to meet Leslie’s stare with hooded lids, his black hair contrasted his skin as he glowed, his blush had spread all the way to his collarbones as he preened at the compliment, causing his cock to throb in Leslie’s hand. “L-leslie, fuck, l-lube in m-my p-pants” he mewled, knuckles white against the sink. 

Leslie’s head spun for a moment he thought he was going to black out as the realisation dawned on him, “did you meet me with the intention of having my cock fill you up dollface?” Clyde made an unintelligible moan, looking delirious as he watched Leslie. he was so turned on he couldn’t see straight, blindly grabbing the pants and finding the lube before squirting far too much on his fingers because how could he not paint this work of art? The canvas was detailed and intricate and Leslie wanted to paint all over--so he did.  
“So eager baby” Leslie commented, his voice guttural and cracked in comparison to Clyde’s breathy moans, mewls and whines, which he does so when Leslie brings his fingers past Clyde’s cock until he pressed a finger against his rim. Clyde moved forward chasing Leslie’s finger at the same time as he entered two at once causing Clyde to cry out and arch his back, he had always been able to play Clyde better than he could his piano. 

“L-leslie, fuck” Clyde whimpered, trying to move against Leslie’s fingers as he crooked and scissored them as an exquisite moan and a cracked sob spilled from his lips and Leslie entered another. 

Tears formed in the corner of Clyde’s eyes as he arched his back against the pain and pleasure, “does it hurt dollface?” Leslie murmured bringing up a hand to move a strand of hair from Clyde’s face and watched in awe as he both preened and simpered, nodding his head yet still moving against his fingers. 

“Again.” 

Leslie didn’t move, he opened his mouth to ask are you sure? 

But Clyde cut him off with that breathtaking smile and half moon eyes, “I w-want this, L-leslie, fuck, I n-need you inside me, w-waited t-too long” he breathed voice cracking and hitching in his throat as Leslie obediently moved his fingers deeper inside his tight heat. “O-oh god, yes, fuck” he whimpered, voice high and needy as he reached down to grasp his own cock that was leaking and begging for attention.

Leslie watched as Clyde writhed from underneath him, reaching out with his free hand to grab onto Clyde’s wrist, “don’t touch yourself, you can’t come until I tell you too,” Clyde’s body trembled as he let his hands drop to his side instead, fists clenched as he bit down on his bottom lip from frustration, looking obscene throwing his head back as he tried to sit on Leslie’s fingers. “So greedy for my fingers, god look at you” he was sure his brain was short circuiting, “fuck, I can’t wait until I am inside of you,to fuck you till you scream, fuck, you’re such a good boy, you’re doing so well baby” 

Clyde mewled when Leslie retracted his fingers, his rim tightening and pulsing as he became empty, “please” Clyde whimpered, begging as words spilled from his glossy lips “god Leslie, i-i’m ready, please, ah, I just want you, fuck, now, i-i’m good, please,”

“Fuck” Leslie couldn’t deny him if he tried, all his senses had scattered leaving nothing behind except something primal, raw and animalistic. 

Leslie retracted his fingers, shushing the whine of protest as he poured some more lube into his hand and slicked up his free’d cock, settling it at his entrance before finally, finally pushing into Clyde’s tight heat, his breath catching in his throat from how good it feels, he was ruined. His head spun and he thought for a moment he actually passed out as he stood there with Clyde’s tight walls clenching around him, soft and quivering. “Fuck, Clyde” he braced himself on either side of the bench as the others fingers pulled tight on his hair, “fuck baby you feel so good.”

Clyde cried out as he moved his hips, sending waves of pleasure to the very pits of his stomach and he wondered how he had ever forced himself to touch another person, how did he think that any stranger would help him forget how this feels? 

Leslie starts up a relentless pace, Clyde meeting him every time with the movement of his hips, his nails digging into Leslie’s back for support as Leslie hit his prostate everytime . The pleasure was intense and white hot, black spots spotting his vision as Clyde latched his teeth into Leslie’s shoulder before crying out “I-I need t-to c-come, Leslie, please, ah, please, please, please, let me come, please” he begged, tears forming in the corner of his eyes. 

“F-fuck, yes baby--god you feel so good, you’re so good, taking my cock so well” Leslie managed to get out raspily, as white hot pleasure swept through the pit of his stomach, he leant forward moving his arms to either side of Clyde and leant against the mirror so he didn’t put any more weight on him than he already was. Clyde’s walls constricted against Leslie, causing him to see stars and have the very oxygen knocked from his lungs as he spilled inside of him. 

Clyde was stuttering Leslie’s name over and over, crying out as white hot spilled out over his chest and slumped forward into the crook of Leslie’s neck, breathing raggedly against his skin. 

It only felt like mere moments compared to the actual time they didn’t move, Leslie cock still inside Clyde, not moving due to the sensitivity but jumping in shock as a loud banging came from the bathroom door. 

“Fuck” 

Leslie pulled out of Clyde gently, leaning it to press a chaste kiss “come on, I’ll take you home and we can get cleaned up.” Clyde nodded still out of it and Leslie wondered what this all meant for now, Clyde had told him earlier that there was no hope to fixing them yet despite it all Leslie believed that they had been crafted solely for one another, the universe had created something so undeniable and explosive between them, that they weren’t meant for anyone else. 

“Leslie Vela? Are you in there?” Graves’s voice came from the other side of the door, 

“Graves?” Clyde replied in confusion, 

He had forgotten about Graves. 

“Clyde Ramsey? I believe that it is you, I am coming in” Graves announced, Leslie and Clyde suddenly stumbling and scurrying to pull on their trousers as Graves murmured a spell and unlocked the door, striding in and closing it behind him. 

Graves appeared abruptly, “Hello Clyde, you look different, you changed your hair and you look very flustered” he stared at them with no expression on his features, “have you been fucking? I would have liked to have joined you but for now, Leslie” he caught his attention, “there are aurors here, should I leave if I do not want to go to Azkaban?” he asked calmly with no hint of panic or any expression on his features, 

Clyde stared back incredulously, “Azkaban? What did you do Graves” 

Graves met Clyde’s stare with no emotion in his face, “I failed some experiments on a specimen that lead to their death, I think they might want to arrest me but I do not wish to go to Azkaban, in fact I want to take Melanie Stryder back to my manor for further research but I can not do that if they arrest me.”

Leslie growled, helping Clyde put his clothes on now that he had fixed himself, “I’ll explain later” he stated a little hurriedly, he was worried for his friend but mostly he was worried about him, Clyde and Melanie Stryder. 

He slipped an arm around Clyde’s waist who was staring lips parted in shock, “you killed someone?” Clyde whimpered from being forced to move so quickly and from shock. 

“Graves, we need to go and no, you can’t bring Melanie Stryder, Clyde--I will tell you everything as soon as we’re out of here” he promised the boy who’s weight he all but carried, he was sure if Clyde had his full strength he’d be a sight to see but for now Leslie was grateful for the placidly of the boy in his arms. 

“I do what I want Leslie Vela” Graves answered calmly, 

“Graves you don’t have time to abduct someone unless you want to get caught okay?” Leslie huffed grabbing onto Graves’ wrist because he feared he apparated separately Melanie would be coming with him, and with a sickening wave of nausea and a pop, they disapparated, leaving nothing behind except Melanie Stryder, the aurors, Graves’ guilt and too many unanswered questions that led into an even more uncertain future.


End file.
